


Anywhere

by varevare (varebanos)



Category: DCU (Comics), The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Chrestomanci AU, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Nine Lives, if you've read the original series you already know, there's death but not quite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/pseuds/varevare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lives of Christopher Chant as an AU, with Tim as Christopher and... you'll see the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Tim! Over here!"

 

As he was used to, when Tim arrived to The Place Between, Hood was already waiting for him. He looked a bit transparent and grumpy in his leather jacket, but his mouth tilted up as soon as he met Tim’s eyes.

 

"What are we doing today?" Tim said as soon as he reached him, eager to start the mission.

 

After firming Hood’s figure up -he couldn’t stay in the dreams like Tim did, and he tended to disappear if Tim wasn’t there to help him- they started walking towards the entrance of Series Ten. In the blink of an eye they found themselves in the middle of a busy street. The houses and the people made a powerful contrast with the grey mist that had surrounded them a second ago, and Tim found himself distracted by the snake charmers and the honeyed sweets vendors soon enough. A lady with a bright blue parasol offered them one, smiling, but Hood tugged on Tim’s arm before he could start a conversation with her.

 

"Your uncle still wants to test these world travelling powers of yours," Hood explained. "Even if you can get me to carry bottles and small objects, it’d be great if living animals were an option too."

 

"I see." Tim eyed the snakes warily. "What exactly am I supposed to get?"

 

"A cat from the Al Ghul temple."

 

Hood took a sharp turn to the right before they could reach the main entrance to the big building -at least, the only entrance Tim could see- and walked through some alleys until they arrived to a tall stone wall. Tim blinked when he saw the tall metal spikes gleaming under the sun.

 

"Look, Tim, even if your uncle asked for a cat, just a mouse or any animal would be enough. Your safety comes first. If anybody sees you, drop everything and come back, okay?"

 

Tim was already pressing against the wall, wondering not if he could capture a cat, but how he was supposed to pass through solid stone. There were no doors anywhere.

 

When he leaned against it, however, he found out that if he turned just so, he could slowly sink through it, and soon Tim had left his worried companion behind him. When he finished crossing the wall he appeared in some kind of inner courtyard, surprisingly dark compared to the streets. Using that alley specifically had clearly been a fortunate decision, because apparently not a single person was around and cats were lying down everywhere under the shade provided by the vines covering it all.

 

Tim was sure any of them would make Uncle Harvey happy, so he went on to catch the nearest one. The cats, however, having been taken by surprise by the boy’s sudden arrival during their nap, had reacted faster than him, and as soon as he tried to catch one they all ran between the columns and plants inside the building.

 

Without thinking, Tim ran after them, his naked feet making a muted sound against the stone floor. After crossing the first threshold, though, he had to stop walking to adapt his eyes to the sudden darkness, worried about running into a pillar somewhere.

 

"Who are you?" a voice asked.

 

Tim froze in place when he heard it, his heart thumping against his chest. Hood had insisted about how important it was for him to remain unseen, since outsiders weren’t allowed to step into the temple. He could only see the outline of a figure, cut against the ambient light, and to say he was scared would have been an understatement.

 

However, the figure stood up and walked closer to him, and when the light from the courtyard behind Tim reached him Tim realized it was just a child. A chubby, dark skinned child that made small jingling noises with every step because of the many bracelets and jewels he was wearing, but a child nonetheless. He was carrying a black and white cat in his arms, and his pout made him anything but threatening.

 

"How do you dare to wake the living Al Ghul from his slumber?"

 

Tim tried to remember his courtesies. Even if he was talking with a child -who, now that he could see him up close, was also shorter than him- his mother insisted that politeness was the most important thing whenever you met a new person.

 

"Nice to meet you. My name is Timothy." He smiled, but that only seemed to make the boy’s pout become more pronounced. "I came here because I need a cat. Any cat will do. I’ll leave before you notice, I swear."

 

"You can’t take the Al Ghul’s cats; they are sacred," the boy replied.

 

Tim hadn’t thought he’d be able to convince him regardless, and he tried to step back, just wanting to return to the bright alley with Hood and catch mice. His feet didn’t seem to agree with him, though, and Tim was starting to panic when the boy spoke again.

 

"Well, maybe Cassandra could be an exception. He never leaves poor Alfred alone."

 

The boy placed the cat he was carrying carefully on a pillow and walked towards a wall, moving around some objects Tim couldn’t make out in the darkness.

 

"Are you going to give me a cat?" he said, almost unable to believe it.

 

"Sure, why not? We have a lot. But you have to give me something in exchange.”

 

“But I thought… nevermind,” Tim murmured when the child -the Al Ghul?- returned to him with a big basket with a cover. His eyes shone with a sinister glint, and Tim wondered if it was really a good idea to make a pact with a supposed deity. It was too late to turn back now, though. He couldn’t even walk away.

 

“What do you want?” he said, hoping it wouldn’t be anything too dramatic. What if he asked for a hand? He needed both to go through Almost Anywhere! Maybe a finger or a toe would be enough. He had enough spares of those.

 

“Books!” the boy replied with a triumphant smile. Tim wondered if books was how they said eyes in Series Ten. “The only books here are about history and genealogy and boring stuff. You will bring me more.”

 

Not waiting for Tim’s answer, the boy handed him the basket.

 

“Cassandra is usually napping under the lilies in the courtyard. I can catch him myself, but you need to have the basket prepared.”

 

The Al Ghul walked past Tim through the door he had come in, and in that moment Tim realized his feet weren’t stuck to the floor anymore. He was sure now that the child had used some kind of magic, even if he was younger than Tim himself! It was so unfair. He hurried after him, feeling very stealthy compared to the constant jingle of the boy’s jewelry. Just as he had been promised, there was a cat still there, napping next to some flowers.

 

“Isn’t Cassandra a girl’s name?”

 

“Is it?” the boy answered, clearly not concerned about it.

 

He made Tim open the basket and in one swift movement he jumped on top of Cassandra, pushing him inside. Tim could have sworn Cassandra had way too many legs and teeth and claws for a normal cat, but before he could make sure the Al Ghul was closing the cover and keeping it shut. The hissing and growling and snarling had been reduced to soft whining, but Tim was far from calm carrying the basket in his arms. The Al Ghul’s bracelets had taken most of the damage, but there were still some visible scratches on his arms, blood steadily dripping and disappearing in the red fabric of his tunic.

 

"Thank you," Tim said, even though he didn’t feel thankful at all about having to carry that cat outside the temple.

 

The boy ignored him, cleaning the scratches with a piece of fabric, and walked back into the building.

 

"Don’t forget my books!"

 

Tim decided not to reply and pressed back against the wall. He started sinking again, but he found out after some inches that it wasn’t working as it should. The basket wouldn’t cross the stone no matter how hard he pulled, and Tim soon realized he would need to find a different exit. He could also drop the basket there, but Uncle Harvey would be so disappointed! Taking a deep breath, he oriented himself, trying to remember the way they had walked around the temple walls through the alley.

 

The corridors he ran through were all pretty empty, and Tim wasn’t able to say if it was because of the time of the day or if the temple was really emptier than he had thought at first. He could already see the gate when Cassandra, probably annoyed at the bouncing of the basket, started yelling again. It was unlike any meowing Tim had ever heard before, and at least ten times as loud; enough to attract a dozen guards to the gate before Tim could get there. The guards were wearing shiny metal masks that made Tim’s stomach churn, with matching spears. They didn’t seem the type that would let Tim go with a warning.

 

Freezing in his tracks, Tim looked around. From every possible escape route came more armed guards, and in a moment one of them was in front of him. The spear looked even more menacing up close, and the last thing Tim saw before it stabbed his chest was Hood’s horrified face looking at him from the gate. Then the whole scene went blurry and Tim found himself sinking into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since Tim could remember he had been having the same dreams. After a minute of lying in bed with the lights turned off, feeling not tired at all, he would get up and just by turning the corner of his room he would appear in The Place Between. It wasn’t a pretty landscape, all full of rocks and mist and light rain, but from there he could get to Almost Anywhere. It was much more fun than his life in the big, silent Drake household. He met lots of cheerful people and saw bright landscapes, completely unlike the gloomy city he often stared at through the window in his bedroom. An old man with a bright parasol in the city of the snake charmers had given him a beautiful chandelier with bells, and the naked ladies at the beach with big fish tails played with him and gave him a necklace of shimmering pearls.

 

Tim often wished his parents were a bit more like the people in his dreams. They were always angry at each other, at least during the short times they were home, and Tim couldn’t even remember how his father looked. His mother was around more often, but to Tim she was nothing but a bundle of shiny fabrics and expensive perfumes. The nannies never seemed to like her, though, and they were always in a bad mood and refused to play after his mother talked to them. Even if it wasn’t nice, Tim often found himself wishing his parents were around less often.

 

The one person Tim liked in his family was Uncle Harvey. Uncle Harvey had just appeared one day in the house, and Tim’s mother had called Tim over to explain that he, instead of Tim’s father, would be taking care of the finances from now on.. Tim, who had not been quite sure of what “finances” even meant back then, didn’t care that much. Uncle Harvey impressed him, though. He wore a brownish suit and smiled at Tim directly, like he thought he was an adult and worth his time. He even gave Tim a shiny silver coin, which sealed Tim’s admiration for him.

 

His admiration went down a notch after the Last Governess, chosen by Uncle Harvey himself, arrived. She was a terribly boring woman who wouldn’t let Tim play much and rarely smiled. Still, Uncle Harvey remained Tim’s favorite person for a while, and it was no surprise that Tim called him when the Last Governess went to his mother telling her that Tim had mysterious toys in his room which he must have stolen.

 

Uncle Harvey had been so much more understanding than the Last Governess. He had smiled at Tim, calmed his mother down -who he called Janet- and waited for an explanation. After Tim explained his nightly visits to the Anywheres, Uncle Harvey hadn’t been mad at all about the toys; in fact, it was more the opposite. Instead, he had stopped Tim’s mother from grounding him and made arrangements so that Tim could start going on missions for him.

 

Tim loved the missions. They made him feel important, and they were the way Tim met his current favorite person: Hood. Hood apparently worked for Uncle Harvey, and he was the only other person Tim knew that could travel through The Place Between. He had a nice smile and, unlike all other men Tim had ever met, wore a ragged leather jacket instead of a suit. He didn’t treat Tim like a little kid either, and he had been very impressed by how Tim managed to go to the Anywheres.

It took Hood a lot of effort to appear there, though, and after a while he’d get tired and his body would begin to blur and fade. Tim could resolidify and firm his image up if he grabbed him, though, and together they started doing Uncle Harvey’s missions. Hood wasn’t as good as Tim at it; in fact, he couldn’t even hold any objects, and he told Tim that where Tim saw rocks and fast rivers in The Place Between, he could only see mist. Even so, Hood taught Tim a lot of new things - like that the Anywheres they traveled to were actually hundreds of different worlds, and that similar worlds could be grouped into Series. Apparently they lived in Series Twelve, which consisted of nine different worlds that shared certain characteristics. Tim didn’t understand it very well, but Hood clearly had more experience than him so he took it as true.

 

The missions were lots of fun, too. After the first one, Uncle Harvey had given Tim a gold sovereign coin, and even the Last Governess had started being nicer to him after that. So when Tim woke up that morning, his main worry was that Uncle Harvey would be disappointed when he found out Tim hadn’t managed to get the cat from Series Ten.

 

Then he realized it was noise coming from under his bed that woke him up, and when Tim scrambled out of it and went to look, he found the basket the Living Al Ghul had given him there. He pulled it forward and opened it, and Cassandra ran out like lightning. Even if he scratched Tim in his hurry to get out, it made Tim smile regardless, and he climbed back to bed to wait for the Last Governess. Both the window and door were closed, so it didn’t worry him when Cassandra started jumping around the room.

 

Sitting down again, Tim undid his pajama top to look at his chest. It was perfectly smooth and clean, like he had never gotten any wound, but it had felt so real…

 

Tim realized he was being silly. Of course he had gotten no wound, it was just a dream! People didn’t get hurt in dreams. He lied back down into the pillows and watched as Cassandra climbed up the curtains. The bar on top was wobbly, and even if Cassandra’s steps were as light as any other cat’s, it suddenly came off the wall, directly towards Tim.

 

Time slowed down, and for a moment everything felt like a replay of his dream -the bar coming fast towards his chest, Cassandra making noise, and even if the end of the bar was dull it went through Tim’s chest as easily as the spear had.

 

All the noise attracted the Last Governess, who suddenly threw the door open and started a spell over Tim’s wound. Tim’s last thought before passing out was that he hadn’t known she was a witch, but he wasn’t too surprised.

 

When he woke up, he could see the sun was already high in the sky, and Uncle Harvey’s voice came through the closed door.

 

“-a live cat, just a single eye is worth hundreds of pounds!”

 

“You can’t catch it without protection. I put a containment spell on the window, but we need to hurry-”

 

That was the Last Governess voice. The sound of footsteps interrupted them, and Tim’s mother’s voice came through, too muted for Tim to hear what she was saying.

 

“Don’t worry, Janet, the kid’s fine. He just needs some rest,” Tim heard his uncle say.

 

Soon, the voices were drifting away, accompanied once again by the sound of footsteps. Tim lied down in his bed and tried to rest, wondering how could it be that he only felt a dull pain in his chest. The bar had stabbed him, right?

 

Though, coming to think about it, maybe his imagination had only been over excited because of what had happened in his dream. He touched the bandages on his chest, not daring to put any pressure. They were a bit itchy. Tim was wondering if he dared to remove them and peek at the wound when Cassandra surreptitiously climbed on the bed. He didn’t look as angry or dangerous now. Maybe he felt sorry for causing Tim’s accident, and after a minute of just staring Tim risked trying to pet him. Cassandra headbutted his palm and meowed sadly.

 

“It’s alright, I’m not hurt, see?” Tim mumbled.

 

Cassandra meowed again and jumped off the bed, climbing to the windowsill. He looked like he wanted to go out, and Tim suddenly remembered Uncle Harvey talking about how much Cassandra’s eyes were worth. His stomach turned. Even if Cassandra was a mean cat, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

Taking a deep breath, Tim sat up carefully on the bed. The soft pillows had kept him more or less upright, and he discovered that if he moved carefully he could get out of the silk sheets without a lot of trouble. Slowly, he opened the window a bit, just enough for Cassandra to jump through. There was a sound like the air was ripping in front of him. As soon as he stepped back, Cassandra ran through the opening without even meowing a thank you.

 

“What a rude cat,” Tim huffed, and after closing the window he went back to bed.

 

He didn’t woke up until some hours later, with the Last Governess fussing around his bedroom.

 

“Timothy, did you see the Al Ghul cat?”

 

“No, why?” Tim answered, trying to look innocent. He didn’t think killing Cassandra was right, but he didn’t want to disappoint Uncle Harvey either.

 

“It’s not in this room, and the containment spell is broken! How could this happen?”

 

Tim wasn’t sure if the Last Governess was asking that to him or to herself, but he ventured an answer.

 

“Hood said that the Al Ghul’s cats were very powerful.”

 

“Yes, you are right,” the Last Governess replied, standing up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Your uncle is going to be terribly disappointed, though.”

 

She sighed, and Tim felt even guiltier. The Last Governess had never looked so normal before.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh, it wasn’t your fault,” she replied, and the moment was over. She was once again the plain, cold woman Tim was used to. “Lie down and don’t move; you need to recover soon. I will bring you some food.”

 

Tim did as he was told, and he soon learned that there were lots of advantages to having a near death experience. To start with, he could stay in bed all day eating fruits and sweets, and he didn’t even have to do homework! Everybody was nice to him, and even his father visited him for a couple of minutes. He wished it had lasted longer.

 

Sadly, in just a couple of days the wound had become a greenish bruise, not even leaving a scar, and the doctor deemed him healthy enough to get out of bed.

 

His life was soon back to normal. He would study with the Last Governess and spend the rest of the day under her attentive eye. Uncle Harvey didn’t visit again after the accident, but he sent Tim a box of chocolates and prepared more missions for Tim. The missions happened every Thursday and they were even more fun than exploring the Anywheres alone. They didn’t have as much time for wandering as when Tim was on his own, but Hood’s company made everything even better. They had carried lots of different objects: bottles full of reddish liquid, jars filled with powder, tightly packaged bundles that smelled like fish…

 

After a while, Uncle Harvey’s people developed a small wagon that Hood could move around without Tim’s help, so they could carry more things and move faster. This gave them even more time to explore, and Tim delighted himself in being able to show all the things he had already discovered in his dreams. In exchange, he learned quite a bit about Hood too. He lived in an attic somewhere in London, and from the offhand comments he kept making, Tim could imagine he also had a very tragic love life. Something about a boy whose smile could light the world. Tim didn’t really understand it, but it sounded really romantic, just like the books some of his old nannies used to read. With Hood’s scruffy beard and battered jacket, it was also easy to imagine him in some run down attic writing sad poems.

 

Thinking about those stories always made him remember the promise he had made to the boy in the Al Ghul temple. Tim had assured him that he would bring him books, and from the conversation he overheard, the cat the boy had given him was worth more than all the books they had in the entire house. But after what had happened last time he was there, Tim didn’t really want to go back. The missions fortunately kept him away from Series Ten.

 

Anyways, even if he had wanted to find some books he wouldn’t have been able to: his life became really busy shortly after he recovered from the incident. The Last Governess took him around the city a lot, and he had measurements taken for a lot of new clothes. He also got many different books and a big trunk that said “Timothy Jackson Drake” in big white letters, but it wasn’t until his belongings were getting packed that the Last Governess explained to him he was going to start school come September.

 

School sounded scary. The next Thursday, Hood assured him school was lots of fun, where you could play sports and make friends, but Tim still wasn’t sure about it. Against it or not, the day of departure came anyways, and his mother and the Last Governess went with him to the train station.

 

“Goodbye, Tim. Make me proud,” his mother had said.

 

She cried a bit -not much, otherwise her makeup would get messed up- and hugged him before turning around and leaving before Tim boarded. The Last Governess used that moment to slip a note in Tim’s pocket saying that the next mission would be in October; Tim read it eight times as he waited for the train to start moving. It would be the only thing from home Tim took with him, together with the two coins Uncle Harvey had given him.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long while since Tim had walked through the streets with the snake charmers. The air was warm, almost warmer than he remembered, and Tim was so nervous he almost wanted to run all the way back to the school’s bedroom. If he concentrated, he could almost hear Bart’s soft snores-

 

But he wasn’t going to do that. He had made a promise, and even if he was terribly late, he was going to fulfill it.

Though really, everything had looked so much easier when he wasn’t there. In school, everybody insisted on the importance of promises. With the gold sovereign Uncle Harvey had given him and Conner and Bart’s assistance, it had been really easy to just buy a handful of books for “his younger cousin”. Even carrying them through The Place Between had been relatively easy, but once he stepped on the streets he couldn’t stop remembering that the last time he had seen the temple, it had been with a spear through his chest. He shuddered. It was too late to turn back now -he stepped on the little voice in his head which said it actually wasn’t- and walked towards the alley he had gone through last time, praying the living Al Ghul would still be there.

 

As he had been hoping for, the alley remained empty and unchanged, and taking a deep breath Tim walked through the wall. The dark courtyard, too, was as peaceful as when Tim first saw it, with some cats lying around in the shade. It was probably nap time in that world.

 

He walked slowly towards the door, and to his surprise and much relief, he saw it was empty except for the chubby boy with the tinkling jewels.

 

“Living Al Ghul?” Tim called out softly.

 

The boy looked up and in an instant he got up and ran towards Tim, his outfit making enough noise that for a moment Tim feared the whole temple would wake up. However, the only thing that happened was that a couple of cats stretched and changed position.

 

“I can’t believe you came back! I thought you had changed your mind!” the shorter boy said, making Tim feel even worse for all the times he had thought of breaking his promise.

 

“Well, I always keep my word.”

 

“I was starting to regret I hadn’t put a curse on you,” the boy said more to himself than at Tim. “Did you bring me books?”

 

The Al Ghul was looking at him with bright eyes, the excitement clear in his voice, and Tim handed him the carefully wrapped package he had been carrying.

 

“Wonderful. Come sit with me,” he said with a regal tone, and walked back to the pillows, where a kitten soon approached to sniff at the package.

 

For a moment, Tim thought about just running away back to where he came from. He had given the child his books, his part of the deal was done -even if he knew they were way less valuable than Cassandra had been-, and staying at the temple couldn’t mean anything good.

 

On the other hand, he also felt curious about the Living Al Ghul. And maybe he also wanted to know if he liked the books.

 

As soon as Tim sat down, the boy started tearing at the wrapping paper. If he was trying to hide his excitement, he was doing a terrible job at it. The kitten started playing with the string that had been tying it all together, and Tim got distracted by it until the Al Ghul spoke again.

 

“What are these books?” he asked, tilting his head. In his hands there was a book with a bright cover that spelled Justice League in black and yellow font.

 

“They’re called comic books,” Tim explained as the boy started flipping through the pages. “Do you like them?”

 

“They are wonderful!” the boy replied, not looking up from his lap. “How many are there?”

 

The noise of the wrapping paper being tossed aside attracted a couple more of cats, one of them Tim recognized as the cat the boy had been carrying when they first met. The Al Ghul ignored their presence completely, except to push them aside lightly to get enough space to spread all the books around him. The boy’s excitement was palpable, even if he was clearly doing his best to appear calm, and Tim couldn’t stop smiling. When he wasn’t frowning and Tim managed to forget how ridiculous all the jewels were, he looked kind of cute.

 

“It will take me at least two weeks to read all of these!”

 

“Just like Christmas,” Tim muttered.

 

“Christmas? Isn’t that a pagan festival?” the Al Ghul asked absentmindedly, setting all the books in a big pile. Tim was going to reply when one of the kittens climbed onto his lap, making him completely forget what he was going to say.

 

“Timothy. Timothy!”

 

Tim hadn’t even realized the boy had been calling his name. When he looked up, he saw the child was scowling, and he looked way more upset than he had a couple of minutes ago.

 

“What’s the problem?” Tim asked.

 

“The books aren’t complete. Look!” The boy showed them the back of a book that said ‘to be continued’. “This is the last book of the series I got. I need to have them all! I will pay you!”

 

Tim groaned internally at his lack of foresight. When Bart had told them they were an ongoing series, he should have expected something like this. Before he could answer, though, the boy started trying to take off one of his many bracelets -the thickest one, up in his arm.

 

“This is silver, it should be enough for the next book. You have to bring it to me!” he said, and with that he finally managed to pry the bracelet off his arm where it left a red mark on the skin, and dropped it on Tim’s hand.

 

Immediately, his face went blurry like it had happened after Tim got stabbed in the dream, and Tim felt himself falling down.

 

He appeared with a thump back on his bed at the school, his heart still beating faster than it should and no silver bracelet to be accounted for in his hands.

 

“What happened?” Tim heard Conner mumble sleepily.

 

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” Tim replied, and sank down in his pillow. Series Ten really was nothing but trouble.

 

-

Tim didn’t go back to Series Ten for a while. He kept doing the missions and concentrating on school work. He was intelligent enough and it didn’t take him much work, but even so his time was way more occupied that it had ever been before when he studied at home. He also spent time with friends -his first friends, not counting Hood. And he had never meet Hood outside his dreams, so it didn’t count all that much.

 

The classes were mostly fun, too. He enjoyed all of them, except Magic class. He had no idea who had signed him up, and even if Hood always said he had to have talent for it because of the dreams, he was a complete disaster at them. He couldn’t even make the simplest spell work! The only way for him to pass the class was to get Conner to discreetly make the spells work for him, and in exchange Tim did his homework. They were both happier with the arrangement, even if Tim felt slightly guilty about it.

 

He also discovered sports. Merely a month after the school started, all the boys at the boarding school had gone crazy with skateboarding, and Tim had joined the trend wholeheartedly. The school had skateboards, and he, together with Conner and Bart, spent all their free time practicing new tricks. Half the time he went to bed with new bruises blooming over old bruises, and he felt too tired and satisfied to even dream. He even missed a mission, which made him get an angry note from Uncle Harvey a couple of days after. He felt so guilty about it, he tried to get to The Place Between every night since then even despite the bruises. Hood didn’t appear until next Thursday, though, but when he did Tim was relieved to see he looked way less angry than Uncle Harvey had sounded.

 

“I thought you had already forgotten me!”

 

He looked exactly the same as usual -leather jacket, black hair, blurry shape-, and it made Tim feel even more sorry for missing the previous week’s mission. He knew the effort it took Hood to appear there.

 

“Like I ever would,” Tim smiled, reaching for Hood’s arm. Instantly, his shape condensed. “School is alright, but this is much cooler.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

Tim looked up at him questioningly.

 

“Why do you say that? You know I always have tons of fun here.”

 

“I was just asking.” Hood didn’t look away. “You’re probably tired from school, maybe it would be better to stop with these missions for a while.”

 

“I can do it!” It annoyed Tim to think Hood would question his capacity after all the time they had been working together. “And if I don’t come, who will firm you up and put the stuff in the wagon?”

 

“Alright, don’t get like that!” Hood huffed and started walking. “It was just a suggestion. Come on, we’re going to Series Ten today.

 

At the mention of Series Ten Tim’s stomach jumped. He had to bring more books to the Al Ghul, but he hadn’t had time. What if the boy had made good of his previous suggestion and put a curse on him? He might be able to feel Tim’s presence and realize he hadn’t brought anything.

 

However, they didn’t appear in the street with the snake charmers. In fact, Hood made him take a different route that Tim thought was closer to Series Five, and they appeared in some big gray docks. Tim couldn’t believe they were in Series Ten until a man walked past them and cursed invoking Al Ghul.

 

Being in a different word made him feel better, and he started talking with Hood again. Hood didn’t mention stopping the missions again, and he asked him about school. Tim discovered they both liked skateboarding, and they spent most of the time afterwards discussing moves and sharing experiences. The load they had to carry that day was especially big, and it was getting lowered onto the wagon by a crane, so they didn’t have anything to do in the meantime. Suddenly, there were some yells from above.

 

Tim looked up and saw the crane had gotten stuck. There was a wooden stick blocking the mechanism, out of the operator’s view. Before Hood could stop him, Tim was climbing up the structure, determined to show him he wasn’t tired and that he could complete the missions perfectly.

 

It was almost too easy, reaching for the stick and pulling it off from the machinery. That is, up to the point where it slipped away from his hand, falling… how many meters was that? Tim had been so centered in finishing fast, in showing Hood he was capable to do the work, that he hadn’t even realized how tall he was. He had became a good climber thanks to all the places he had explored in all the Series, and without even realizing he was now standing at the edge of the crane without anything to hold on. The screams were coming from down below.

 

Tim had just managed to find Hood’s face from between the other workers when a gust of wind pushed him from behind -and then Hood’s face was getting closer too fast and then there was only a crack and darkness.


End file.
